Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Hungary and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing David Axelrod to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Crime. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lalo Schifrin,
Subhumans,
the Swans,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
D'Angelo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Japan,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
H. Thieme,
Slick Rick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Excepter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ludus,
Ice-T,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Silicon Teens,
Masters at Work,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
Visage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABBA,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
Average White Band,
Sandy B,
Marc Almond,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warsaw,
Morten Harket,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry's Kids,
Bang On A Can,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Althea and Donna,
Rosa Yemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.